


The Silent

by sessrumnir



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Tru Calling AU, sort of supernatural?, this sounds way darker than it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-22 19:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13173495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sessrumnir/pseuds/sessrumnir
Summary: They are branching off into Buzzfeed Unsolved: Causa Mortis and their chosen filming location is a morgue. That works just fine until Shane starts living things he never thought possible.[Tru Calling!AU]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm exhausted and this hasn't really been beta'd, but I've read it so many times the past couple of weeks, I need to post it before I decide to change anything else. sorry for the typos that I just /know/ exist. hope it's not too bad!! 
> 
> a few things:
> 
> \- if you haven't watched tru calling, don't worry! you don't need to have seen it to understand the story. it's kinda similar to ghost whisperer, minus the ghosts (if that makes any sense?).  
> \- the story's almost complete, so beware: there's some heavy angst ahead.  
> \- let's just pretend that's how the post-mortems are filmed, alright. and as usual, AU where they're both single. because of reasons.  
> \- title's from tragic tantrum's _the silent_. I love this song?!

"Shane, wake up, TJ's here." 

He opened his eyes begrudgingly, yawning and stretching back on the couch. Ryan slapped his arm away. 

"Hey, watch out with those Yeti limbs." 

Shane turned to look at him. Ryan was carrying his notebook, his notes, and both their bottles of water. He used his chin to point towards the coffee table, "Grab your tea and let's go." 

"Alright, 'm going." 

The time it took for TJ to get there had been enough for Shane to take a good nap, even though he knew it would take a lot more than that to recover from all the drinking from the night before. He stretched some more, enjoying the fact that they had the Bergara house (mostly) to themselves that Monday, and strode up after Ryan to the attic. 

TJ was setting the camera, looking almost as shitty as Shane himself.  

"You ok, man?" Shane asked. 

Instead of answering, TJ scoffed. Ryan tried to help: "The TJ Mobile died." 

"No." 

"No, it didn't die, it just--" TJ corrected, standing up abruptly to brush his face. "It's batteries. I think. I dunno. I'll look when I get back. Let's get going here." 

Shane and Ryan exchanged raised eyebrows, both trying not to laugh.  

"Sure, let's do it. Whenever you're ready." 

The post-mortems were usually quicker to film than the episodes, even for True Crime seasons, but they still took their time joking around for far longer than was necessary. TJ left in a hurry, politely refusing Ryan's brother offer of pizza. Shane ended up accepting Jake's offer, and they had dinner in the kitchen, chatting after a long day.  

"I really don't miss those parties," said Shane, taking a long sip of beer. "I mean, sure, it was kinda fun, but it was also so depressing. No one knew what they were doing. The guys I used to hang out with were terrified of doing anything even remotely weird."  

Ryan made a face. "That sounds boring."  

"Still a lot of people like that. At least at SOD. That's why I'm not into these things," offered Jake. He grabbed another slice from the pizza set next to him on the counter and chewed on the cheese at the tip. His mouth was full when he said, "There's one today. Don't think I'm going, though." 

"What's even the point of going to a party if you're not willing to fuck shit up in the most stupid way possible?" Ryan said. "But safely," he added to Jake.  

"Yeah, Jake, remember to wear your armbands if there's a party at the pool." 

Jake choked on his beer, and Ryan squinted at Shane. "I'm serious, I've seen some pretty nasty stuff happen at those house parties. He knows what I'm talking about." 

"Do you?" Shane asked, but Jake just shrugged. Shane turned back to Ryan. "Man, he's so chill. What went wrong with you?" 

Ryan opened his mouth to retort, but Shane winked at him, laughing, and he gave up. They just laughed, tiredness washing over them as the sun started to set outside. It had been a busy one, today, finishing the scripts for both the post-mortem that afternoon and for the day of filming they would have on Tuesday.  

"The TJ Mobile is fine," announced Ryan at some point, looking at his phone. "I bet TJ is crying in relief right now." 

"What was it?" Asked Jake. 

"Ring gear." 

Shane just downed his beer, uninterested in the topic of car maintainance that followed. 

On his way out, after a rather warm greeting from the newly arrived Mrs. Bergara, Shane asked Ryan: "Ready for tomorrow?"  

"I think so, yeah. I wish I'd had more time to work on the script but that's--" 

"Don't even think about staying up all night to fix it." 

"I'm just saying, it could use some touch-ups here and there--" 

"Ryan," he said with what he hoped was a kind smile and not a robotic, sleepless wide-eyed stare. "It's great. It's gonna be great. Just have some sleep, you'll need it tomorrow." 

"I sure am. Will. I don't even know anymore, honestly." He paused, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "You think it's gonna work?" 

"Yeah. There's no reason for it not to. And it's even creepier, so you know, more clicks, more shares, more conspiracy lovers for your little team that thinks aliens did it." Ryan rolled his eyes at this, but he was smiling, and so Shane smiled, too, throwing his jacket on. "Listen, if it's really that much of a tank, we'll just stick to the original run. No harm done."  

"Alright," Ryan conceded. He still looked worried, but he nodded vigorously. "Yeah, alright, let's see how this thing goes. Unsolved Causa Mortis." 

Shane grinned. "Catchy, huh."  

∞

It was his first time in a morgue, and if he were to be honest to himself, the first time he was so close to a corpse that was not in a coffin. They hadn't actually seen any corpses yet, since they were going through cold cases screened by the consulting coroner overseeing the shooting, but it was not as if the bodies were off limits – as long as there were no cameras in there with said bodies, that is. 

"You're insane, you know that, right?" Ryan repeated again, for good measure.  

Shane just smiled. He felt silly for being this excited, but there was just something about seeing a corpse that was just thrilling enough for him to accept the coroner's offer. He was walking into the room with the cold chambers, zipping up his jacket and obediently hiding his hands in his pockets. The coroner was instructing him to not touch anything, not get too close, not bump into anything (Ryan snickered at that), and to try his best to not disturb the sheet over the body.  

"Your last chance," the coroner told Ryan as he opened the door. "Sure you don't want a peek, Ryan?" 

"No, I'm good, thanks," Ryan said, stepping back and eyeing Shane with that amused grin of a believer that thinks the skeptical a fool for going too far. "Have fun."  

"I will!"  

Shane walked after the coroner, surprised to see it wasn't that different from the morgues he had seen on TV. The room they had been before looked more like your usual doctor's office, but this was the same kind of all metalic, squeaky clean room he was used to seeing in thrillers and horror flicks. It was rather small, with two slabs – one of them occupied by a motionless figure under a white sheet.  

Something twisted inside Shane. That was a bit more grim than he expected, and darker; he felt surprisingly sad at the idea that the person lying there now had been alive not long ago. It wasn't just a makeshift corpse for a movie, or a Horror Night attraction. That was someone. He tried to hide the slight shiver that ran through his body, but even if the coroner saw it, he pretended not to.  

"Female, nineteen, little over a hundred pounds. UCLA freshman. Time of death around eleven p.m. yesterday."  

"Nineteen?" Shane asked in a hushed voice. He had no idea why he was whispering, but he continued doing so. "How did she die?" 

"She drank too much," said the coroner in a tone that implied he was tired of saying those words. "Passed out cold in the pool. By the time her friends took her out, she was dead."  

That was a bit much, even for Shane. Sure, he had signed up for a couple dead bodies, but maybe he hadn't been prepared for the accidental death of a freshman. He could see a bit of her arm peeking from under the sheet: manicured nails, a dark complexion fading into the ghostly pale of the deceased. He felt like a dipshit for being excited about coming into that room, now.  

"The cold chambers are rather simplistic, and of course help in mantaining the body temperature--"  

Shane was still staring at the girl's hand under the sheet as the coroner turned his back to him to open one of the chambers lined up against the wall. In a split second, he thought he saw the girl's pinky twitch. He blinked, almost certain he had imagined it. Had it been Ryan, he would've jumped in the most scandalous way possible, but he was sure it had just been in his head...  

His heart dropped when the hand he had been staring at reached out from under the sheet and grabbed his wrist. Shane's eyes shot up to where the girl's face was supposed to be, just in time to see the sheet slip from her head, revealing big, brown eyes and chapped lips. 

" _Help me_ ," she croaked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen.. I'm way too anxious for this Chaptered Work That I'm Supposed To Have A Schedule For life. here goes another chapter. I don't know why. just. here, take it.

"Shane, wake up, TJ's here."

Shane jumped awake, feeling his neck crack with the sudden movement. Behind the couch, Ryan jumped, too, startled. "Jesus, watch those Yeti limbs, man."

Turning around, Shane realized he was back at Ryan's house – better yet, his parents' house. It was day, and Shane felt a dull ache behind his eyes that told him he was still hungover. He looked at this hands. Of course there was nothing there, despite the image of the girl – the dead girl, _Jesus fucking Christ_ – vivid still in his mind. 

"Come on, grab your tea, we're going upstairs," Ryan called, walking away with his notebook, notes and bottles in his arms. 

Shane stood up, not before making sure he really was awake this time. That had been the weirdest, most realistic dream he ever had. And the longest, too. He brushed his face, tiredly, and picked up his glasses and the mug on the coffee table. 

Maybe going out to drink the night before wasn't his most brilliant idea. He promised himself to have a good night of sleep that night. 

TJ was agitated, cursing under his breath as he set the cameras up for shooting. As way of greeting, Shane joked: "Hey man, how's the TJ Mobile?"

"Dead," said Ryan from his place at the table. 

"Not dead," TJ corrected, standing up straight to shoot him a look. "It's just... Probably batteries. I dunno. I'll check later. Let's get this going."

Shane was frozen in place for a second. He didn't expect his joke to make any sense, as much as he didn't expect his dream (because it was a dream, right?) about that day to go the exact same way as things were going right now. 

"That's strange."

"What is?" Ryan asked, not taking his eyes off his phone.

"I—I don't know. Déjà vu. Sort of." He sat down next to Ryan, a bit confused, but trying to not let it show. "Whenever you two are ready." 

Shane was convinced there was something going on by the time they wrapped up and TJ left in a hurry, refusing Jake's offer of pizza and beer. Not so much by the TJ Mobile thing, but because most of their conversation during the post-mortem had been almost exactly like in Shane's dream. Or whatever the fuck that had been. Ryan had laughed at the same jokes, made the same out of the blue remarks, interrupted him at the same exact moments during the Hot Daga. It was more than just a coincidence, and he could admit that, because this... This was ridiculous. 

"Yeah, it wasn't that much fun," he said, feeling weird sitting at the same spot he thought he had been sitting before. "You know, boring, people not wanting to be the freaks." 

"Including your friends?" Asked Ryan. "That does sound boring." 

"There's a lot of that shit at SOD. Reason why I'm not that interested," said Jake, doing what Shane could swear he had already seen happen: he grabbed a slice of pizza on the counter and chewed on the cheese at the tip, saying through a mouthful: "One happening today. Not going, though." 

"What's even the point of going to a party if you're not--" 

"Willing to fuck shit up in the most stupid way possible, yeah, I know," he completed for him. Ryan gave him a surprised look, but didn't say anything, because he saw the way Shane was lost in thought, beer hanging mid-air. "Jake, you said there's a party happening today?"

The guy nodded. 

"At UCLA?"

Another nod as Jake tried to stuff the entire slice in his mouth. 

"Are the freshmen invited?"

"Wow, dude, hold on," Ryan interrupted, laughing only half-heartedly. "Now that's starting to get weird."

"What? No! Jesus, Ryan, no, that's not--" he turned back to Jake. "This is gonna sound very strange and possibly racist coming from me, but do you know any Latina freshmen?"

Both Jake and Ryan stared at him, identical confused expressions (though Ryan's seemed more alarmed). "Uh, a few. Friends of friends..." 

"Right." 

Shane didn't know where he was going with that. He didn't know why he had asked any of it in the first place. All he knew was that there was something up, and he wasn't insane. Or maybe he was? Ryan put his beer aside and asked, "You ok, big guy?" 

"Not entirely sure," he chuckled. "Jake, sorry man, can I talk to Ryan here for a second?"

Jake's eyebrows shot up until they were hidden beneath the cap he was wearing. "Sure," he said, sliding off the counter and taking the rest of the pizza with him upstairs. 

"What's wrong?" Ryan asked as soon as they were alone, voice lower, gentler. The house was silent around them. 

Shane laughed again, at the ridiculousness of what he was about to say, and brushed his face tiredly. He suddenly had an idea. He looked up and saw Ryan's phone on the counter next to him. He said, "Did TJ say anything about the car?"

Picking up his phone without question, Ryan unlocked the screen and raised an eyebrow. "He did, actually. It was just the--"

"Ring gear."

"--ring gear. Wait," Ryan stared at him. "Since when do you know so much about cars?"

Shane raised both hands. "I don't! That's weird as fuck, right?"

"I mean, curiously weird, yeah." 

"That's not—Fuck, this is ridiculous. Look, I had a dream..."

"A dream?"

"Maybe not a dream. I honestly don't know anymore. I woke up yesterday—Or today on your couch, and we filmed the post-mortem, and I went home and then when I woke up--" 

"We didn't film the post-mortem yesterday, Shane."

Ryan sounded just a little bit freaked out, which should be a good sign, all things considered, but it only made Shane sad because if Ryan didn't believe him... What chance did he have of figuring it out? He wouldn't trust anyone else with this because well, anyone else would assume – maybe rightly so – that Shane had lost it, perhaps mixed his sleeping pills, but Ryan knew him. If he wasn't insane, Ryan would know. And right now he looked like he didn't know that. 

"I know we didn't. Look," he stood up, walking around the kitchen as he tried to think this through. "It's like I dreamed what would happen today. You know? I saw it all happen before, TJ arriving late, the TJ Mobile thing, the entire conversation we had during the post-mortem... Even the conversation with Jake went basically the same way. It's like the day is happening again to me but I... I honestly don't know how that could happen so maybe I just dreamed about it, and now I'm living it. Does that make any sense?"

"None," said Ryan, but he seemed less confused, more geninuely interested. "So what you're saying is, you've lived this night before? What the fuck was that about Latina freshmen, then?"

"Right! Right, shit, I almost forgot..." Shane pulled out his phone. It was just over 6p.m. The sun was gone outside, and he knew – or assumed, if he were to take that madness seriously – that the Bergaras would arrive in about half an hour. "We better go before your mother gets here, she'll want to talk and we should get going if we want to make it on time."

"She's at Aunt Gina's, she's not getting here before ten, at least..."

"Your aunt sent her home, there's some sort of soap opera tonight."

"Oh shit, you're right, it's Monday," Ryan watched as Shane checked his pockets for his wallet and phone and started tidying up the kitchen quickly. "What do you mean make it on time, where are we going?"

"UCLA," said Shane simply, wiping his hands on his jeans and walking to the bottom of the stairs, right outside the kitchen door. "Jake, I need a favor!"

∞

"That's it," Jake said as they pulled up in front of a large house with high windows. The street had cars parked up and down, and it was clear that the destination was the house where music seemed to be booming out of. It looked mostly dark at the front of the house, although the backyard seemed brighter than anything in that street. "That's the only party I know that's going on with a pool involved. But it's not like I know everything that's happening on campus, so... You sure you don't want me to go in?"

"It _would_ be a little less weird--" 

Ryan interrupted him, "No, it's fine, go back home, Jake. You shouldn't even be driving."

"I had one beer."

"Exactly," Ryan got out of the car, and Shane followed. They waited until Jake had driven around the corner and then crossed the street, walking up to the small gate that led to the back of the house. 

While Shane opened his cuffs and top button, ruffling his hair so he wouldn't look too much like a 30 year-old crashing a college party, Ryan tucked his hair in a little tighter under the beanie, covering as much of himself as he could with his sweater. They were out of place, sure, but luckily for them, they weren't the only ones. There were all sorts of people milling around, most with drinks in hand, shouting over the music to hear themselves.

"Ok, so what are we doing, exactly?" Ryan asked, eyeing the crowd. It thinned out enough for them to squeeze through and finally reach the pool. Noisy music, drunk screaming, constant splashing of people jumping into the water – it was exactly as obnoxious as Ryan remembered pool parties being, he remarked. 

"Looking for someone. She's five foot five, thin, Latina, brown eyes..."

"Oh yeah, because that's gonna help here, in this very well-lit place."

"I don't have much else, ok? Just... Keep your eyes open. Try to blend in, we can still blend in with these people." 

"Sure," Ryan said, not exactly agreeing. They stood around awkwardly at the side of the pool, next to a large group of people talking rather loud. "You know, anyone else and I would've called the police by now."

Shane had been scanning the crowd, trying his best to discern anyone that looked like the girl he had seen in his dream/hallucination/who the fuck knows. "What d'you mean," he asked distractedly.

"You, creeping your way into a college party, looking for a girl by her height? That's some weird shit, man."

"And you're doing this because...?"

"Because I trust you," Ryan answered easily, not bothering to look at him, also scanning the crowd. He missed the way Shane turned to look at him, surprised. "But honest to God, if you do anything remotely creepy--" 

" _Jesus Christ, Ryan!_ " 

"Alright, alright."

They had arrived around 8p.m., so Shane knew they had a couple of hours before anything happened. He hoped nothing would happen at all, and that they'd go back home and Ryan would use that to tease him for months to come – if it meant they wouldn't have to see a girl drowning, then it would be worth it. At some point, Ryan started making his way through the group next to them, joining the conversation about this or that point on campus, and oh my god, yeah, the Beer Pong Fridays were a classic, of course he knew about those. Shane tried his best not to look too bored, just nodding and laughing along. 

The crowd thinned out slightly, and by 10:50p.m. most people had left the pool towards what they heard were three different, more catered-to-your-tastes parties. Shane was anxiously checking his watch. They hadn't seen her. She hadn't shown up. Was that a good or a bad thing? How could he go home and not know if she was safe or not? He didn't even know her name--

"Wait, what did you say?" He interrupted a short, stocky guy with a red face. He didn't look older than 17.

"Uhm," the guy eyed him, and then Ryan, before repeating himself: "Man, she's so hot?"

"Before that," Shane hissed.

"Debra's probably enjoying her own rich-people-pool right next door?" He offered, tentatively. "Wait, do I know you from somewhere?"

Shane didn't answer. He cursed, asked for the exact address, and took off running. Ryan tried to call him, but he didn't stop. They ran out of the house, back into the street and then down, the way they came when Jake had dropped them off. Shane felt silly for believing in his own stupid mind and whatever fucked up tricks it had come up with this time, but he quieted that down in favor of just running as fast as he could. Something was tugging at his chest, and he was afraid, so afraid that it was too late, that he wouldn't be able to help, that she would be gone... 

He skidded to a halt in front of the house Stocky Guy had described, jumping the short fence that separated it from the street. Ryan shrieked behind him, "What the fuck. Shane! Shane, what the fuck are you doing?" 

It was there. The pool wasn't all the way behind like that first house – it was hidden by a well-kept, softly lit garden, and it was quite smaller, too. But as soon as Shane saw the pool, he knew this was it. There was something floating. Someone. Motionless. Ripples on the surface told him it hadn't been long since the water had been disturbed; a mass of black hair was swirling around among cups, the silence almost eerie. 

Shane threw himself in. He would've taken off his shoes, at least, had he remembered to do that. Or his phone from his pocket. But the panic that threatened to choke him was so great he just jumped, feeling the icy cold water burn his skin as he reached for the girl and turned her around.

He recognized her. Her hair was matted to her head, and her skin wasn't ghostly pale, but he recognized her. She was out cold, and Shane started pulling her out towards the edge of the pool, finally tuning in to what Ryan was saying. 

Which was a stream of expletives and  _what the fucks_ , mostly. 

"How the fuck--" Ryan helped lift her out, then brought his phone to his ear. He met Shane's gaze for a second before the call completed and he looked down, checking her pulse as Shane tried mouth-to-mouth. "Please, hello, a girl was just drowning here at UCLA, I think we're at her house-- Yes, she's alive, but she's out..."

∞

No matter how much Shane thought of himself as a good person, he never thought of himself as a hero, or someone that deserved much praise for anything. His brother called him a nihilist, but he considered himself more of a realistic kinda guy. He knew he wasn't that special. That night at the edge of the pool, he felt his muscles so tense because of the icy cold water and the chilly evening air – and yeah, maybe the anxiety that had been eating him alive that night - that he could barely move after they had tried reanimating the girl. He had to be checked on by the first responsers – Ryan was afraid he was going into shock – but thankfully for all involved, he was released with a warm blanket and orders to go home and change into dry clothes. The girl was taken to the hospital alive and breathing, which felt like a success of sorts.

They rode home in silence, not wanting to discuss anything in front of their Uber driver. Ryan ended up sleeping over at his place, partly because he was too tired to go home, but mostly because, as far as Shane could tell, Ryan understood. Something had happened. Shane had seen the girl dead, and somehow had prevented it from actually happening. 

"I mean it, and I'm not trying to be funny here, but do you have any theories?" Shane asked Ryan, who was sitting at the end of his bed, wearing one of Shane's old  _Dark Knight_  shirts. "Serious theories, please."

"You could be clairvoyant," Ryan suggested, and then hastily added, "Right, I know what you're gonna say, how can anyone see the future, but dude, you just fucking saved a girl you had never met. You knew how, when and where she'd die." 

"Not where," Shane sniffed. His nose was running. 

Ryan rolled his eyes, but he was patient when he said, "You knew enough to actually save her. That's something. More than something, if you'd ask me. That was fucking insane." 

A sneeze. Shane groaned, dramatically, and buried himself deeper under the sheets. Ryan patted his knee, smiling in a way that made Shane glad he had decided to stay for the night. A smile that told him Ryan was there, and he believed him. Trusted him, even. That was more than Shane had hoped for.

"It's gonna be fine," Shane said. "Causa Mortis. It's a good idea. Don't worry."

"How did you-- Did I say something? Alternate reality me?"

Shane couldn't help but smile at the sight of Ryan's dorky grin, and at how fast he had caught up. "Yeah. You think the script could use some tweaking."

"It really could." 

"No, man, it's good. Really. I'd tell you if it sucked. You know I would."

Ryan squinted at him, holding back his smile. "Would you? I don't know."

"Of course. And I don't know what you're worried about, your ideas are good. I mean, really good. Would Unsolved have the success it has today if it were just me? Highly unlikely."

"You'd just insult ghosts for ten minutes and call it a wrap."

"Yeah," Shane laughed, and Ryan followed. "Man, that's not how I was raised." 

They stayed in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. Shane felt the pills start to kick in, eyelids getting heavier by the second. Ryan broke the silence: "You really think it's gonna work? It's just. I just don't want to milk it too much. You know? Like, I don't want it to become the new True Blood, or something." 

"Oh, God."

"Exactly. I don't want to ruin it."

Shane chewed on his tongue, thinking it through. "I don't think you will. You're a good producer. Better than Alan Ball, definitely."

"I fucking hope so," said Ryan between laughs. "I think we're gonna postpone filming for now. You sound like Chewbacca when you're sick," he joked, the corner of his eyes crinkling. 

Shane made a half-hearted attempt at kicking him from under the sheets. "That's kinda cool."

"No, it's not. But no worries, I'll take care of it  _and_ of you. Sleep it off, big guy."  

He stood up and turned off the lights, leaving the room. Shane suddenly wished he hadn't bought that sofa bed for the living room so many years ago. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally home after the new years, let's get this update thing going! 
> 
> thank you for the kudos and the comments, folks, I really, really appreciate it. seriously. <3

"Look who finally decided to show up," Shane said, swiveling around on his chair. He saw Ryan and frowned. "What happened?"

"I'm so mad right now." Ryan sat heavily at his desk, lifting the cast on his right hand to stare at it. "I can't believe this shit."

"Dude, what happened?"

"Some fucking guy on a bike. Ran over me when I was getting out of the building this morning, going to the gym," he sighed and then growled in frustration, changing everything on his desk so he could use his left hand. "I'm not mad at him, he was pretty nice, actually. Took me to the ER and everything but like," Ryan looked at him, exasperated, pointing at the cast. "I'm not that coordinated with my left hand, I almost spilled coffee all over myself already."

"Well, why didn't you say something?"

"I did, I think I called him an idiot at some point."

"No, man," Shane helped him relocate his mouse to the left side of the keyboard. "Why didn't you tell _me_ , I could've picked you up, or something."

Ryan gave him one of his lovely smiles, "'Hey, Shane, please help me, I can't work my keys'? Nah, it's alright, I'm figuring it out."

"Alright, if you say so. Still up for filming today?"

"Yep, I'll just finish answering some e-mails with my incredible one-hand typing skills. Then we can go grab lunch and go straight there."

He agreed, and they both turned to their computers. Shane eyed Ryan's cast one more time, worried more about Ryan's stubbornness at not accepting any help than at the injury itself. But as it turned out, Ryan had been honest about not needing his help; aside from the driving, which was on Shane's part, they had a pretty uneventful lunch and reached the morgue without anything happening either.

That is, until Ryan hit the cast against the edge of the desk where they sat at for Causa Mortis.

" _Shitfuckingballs_ ," Ryan hissed, doubling over the cast.

"You alright?"

"Jesus _fuck_ , it hurt like a--" he stopped himself, glancing over at the elderly coroner. "Sorry, I tend to curse a lot when in pain."

"Or when scared. You know, most of the time," Shane added, glancing conspicuously at the coroner. "Wanna take a minute, Ryan?"

"That would be nice."

"Sure," Shane stood up again. He had been sitting for most of the day, so he used the opportunity to stretch his legs a bit.

They had filmed the first episode a couple of weeks before, and as Shane had suspected, nothing weird happened. He didn't see the body of the freshman, and no other bodies tried to scare the living lights out of him, despite everything else repeating itself up until that point. This was their third time there, and the coroner was sitting against the desk opposite them. He called out to Shane, "We can visit the other room again, in the meantime."

He was in a good mood, arms crossed across his chest. Shane wondered if the man had finally seen some of their videos like he promised he would, and if that was the reason why he was suggesting a visit to the autopsy room again – maybe he had seen Shane taunting demons and had assumed, like most people did, that he was pretty keen on the morbid.

And to be fair, Shane kinda was, although his last experience had left him less than excited for any more corpses. It wasn't like something as bizarre as that was going to happen again, he reasoned once with Ryan, only to hear a resounding laugh and a " _if anything, that's probably gonna happen twice as much now_." He had brushed it off then, but now he hesitated. At least he understood it a little better. How it happened -- not why, or why _him_ , but still. He had never asked for this, and man, he had asked for a lot of bullshit in his life.

"Sure," he said to the coroner, receiving a short nod in response and watching the older man reach for the door to the autopsy room. Ryan gave him a small, encouraging smile.

It was messier than before, and more cold, too. There were several files on one of the counters, along with a couple of plastic bags filled with what he imagined were clothes that had been on the bodies now lying there on slabs. _Bodies_ plural because there were two this time. Both were covered with white sheets like before, but one of them had a few dark stains, scissors and scalps lying on a tray nearby. Shane was relieved to see the coroner stand next to the non-bloodied one.

"Sorry about that," he gestured towards the items. "The examination itself is done, we'll start closing him up as soon as Morrison gets back. Now," he read the file there, sighing as if bored. "This one's a male, fifty-seven. Hit and run, right in the intersection of Wilshire and Veteran Avenue. A tragedy, really. Would you like to see him?"

Shane looked up startled, "What? I thought... I thought that because I don't have clearance--"

"Oh, no, you don't, but the family's already been in, his body's going to the University. There won't be a problem."

Before Shane had time to answer, the coroner pulled the sheet back. He couldn't avoid looking – the skin had a blue hue to it, and one side of his face was a dark purple. The man looked peaceful, despite the state of his face and neck; the bruise went all the way down to his chest, and Shane could feel his stomach wrenching into a mix of anguish and disgust, the memory of the last time he was in there, of the close call they had not a full month before--

The corpse on the table suddenly opened his eyes, of a pale blue, and snapped his head to the side to look at Shane. His cold, rubbery hand grabbed Shane's and said, in a breath:

" _Help me._ "

∞

He woke up startled, sitting up and breathing hard through his mouth. His heart was beating wildly against his ribcage. It had happened. Right? It had happened again. He realized his alarm had gone off and reached over to grab his phone on the nightstand. It was early - laundry day, he reminded himself; instead of getting up he just sat there, trying to catch his breath.

What proof did he have that he was _not_ hallucinating? Should he be calling his psychiatrist? She had never had much to worry about him, their encounters had centered on his insomnia and anxiety, but maybe she had been wrong, he thought. Maybe he should have been in a hospital this entire time. Maybe his brain was slowly giving up on him.

Shane brushed his face, tiredly. No point in thinking about that _now_. Besides, Ryan knew about it. And believed him, even if he was hallucinating dead people talking to him every other month – god, the jokes Shane would crack about this when he proved to himself that he wasn't dreaming all that from inside a padded room...

Fuck. Ryan. He remembered suddenly. Picking up the phone he had dropped on his lap, he ignored all his notifications and called Ryan's number. It rang three times before he picked up.

" _'mthp_ ," Ryan grunted. Shane felt the corner of his mouth twitch in a smile. " _What_."

"Ryan, wake up. It's happening again."

Rustling on the other end. Shane imagined a very disheveled Ryan sitting up, trying to figure out which way was up. He was most definitely not a morning person.

" _What is. Shane? What time is it. Everything alright, man?_ "

"I'm alright, yeah, no, everything's fine. But, uh, remember that thing that happened about a month ago? Me seeing a girl dead and everything?"

" _You mean you talking to a corpse? Sure. Weren't we talking about this just yesterday? Did you really have to wake me up to--_ "

"Ryan, shut up. I said it's happening again. Today."

A pause, and Ryan was more awake when he said, " _Oh_."

"Yeah, _oh_. It's an old dude this time. And you should be careful when you leave your apartment today."

" _Why?_ " He sounded wary.

"You broke your arm yesterday. Today. Fuck, this is messed up. My point is that you broke your arm and it hurt like a bitch – your words, not mine – so be careful. You know, not to be run over by an asshole on a bike."

" _An asshole on a bike_."

"Literally," Shane joked, making Ryan snort, but then shook his head. "No, I can't be joking around like this, I gotta do something. Right?"

He didn't want to sound like he needed Ryan's affirmation to do it, but if he was being honest with himself, he probably did need it. What with fearing he was going insane, knowing that Ryan had his back was important. It always was, but this time it was essential. He wasn't sure he would be able to go through that again without Ryan.

Maybe this wasn't the time to think about that, either.

" _I mean,_ " Ryan's voice was raspy, grounded, and it helped Shane focus. " _Did he ask for your help like, uh, Debra?_ " Her name was the only thing they had learned about her that night at the pool. " _Because if he did, you should help him, yeah. Mind if I tag along?_ "

"Please, do," Shane said, not worried about sounding scared. "This is fucked up, you get fucked up better than I do."

" _In more ways than one_ ," Ryan joked, but backpedalled quickly. " _Not. Not like that. I meant, turnt, fucked up, not. Not_ \--"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You coming or not?"

" _Oh God, why am I hearing everything wrong today. Yeah, pick you up in fifteen?_ "

"Alright."

 

∞

 

The intersection was not different from any other day. They parked one block down and walked back there, watching the traffic. Standing close to the Spanish War Veterans Monument, they waited. And waited. Two hours went by, and Shane felt weird in the stomach, but he wasn't sure if it was anxiety getting the better of him or just hunger. They were crouching, backs against the white wall behind them. He could see Ryan was starting to fidget, seeming uncomfortable.

"Wanna find somewhere to sit?" He asked. 

Ryan shook his head, but nearly fell on his ass when he tried to shift in place and his hand gave in. His right hand. Shane's heart skipped a beat.

"You got run over by the idiot, didn't you?"

"Almost," Ryan avoided his eyes, embarrassed. "I saw him coming, I just-- It's nothing, it's not broken or anything."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Uh, because maybe I didn't want to look stupid?" Ryan glanced at him. "It's fine, I was just dumb, I bumped into the door trying to jump out of the way and my hand bent in a weird way. But a week at the gym and I'll be good as new." 

"I don't doubt that. It's just, you know... Worrying."

A pause. 

"You're worried you weren't able to avoid it?" 

Shane nodded. 

"Dude, you saved me god knows how many days in a cast. Weeks, maybe. Maybe something more serious! I'm telling you, it was worth something. I can still move my hand, for starters."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." 

Ryan stared at him for a second too long, but they didn't say anything about it after that. They fell in silence, back at watching traffic, checking their watches every so often. 

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever done. And that's saying a lot," Shane stated after a while, staring at the cars going by. "If it's a car accident there's nothing I can do about it, anyway. What's the point?"

"Is it? A car accident?"

"A hit and run, according to the coroner."

Ryan looked around, as if looking for something specific. "That could mean something else, Shane. It could be a—Oh. Shit."

Shane turned to the direction Ryan was looking. "What?"

"I think—That guy over there. Do you see him?" He was pointing at the parking lot across the street. "Is he trying to..."

"And of course that's him. Oh, fuck me."

He recognized him immediately, even though his face wasn't half purple like he had seen before. Shane meant to take off in that direction, but the light was green, and traffic was too intense for them to risk crossing. They watched from afar as the man Shane had seen dead on a slab punched and kicked a vehicle. It seemed to be parked, but even Shane's myopic eyes could see there was someone sitting behind the wheel. The man was dressed well, and seemed intent on breaking into the car by force. He seemed to be talking, too, maybe shouting, but they couldn't hear anything from that distance.

"What the _fuck_ is he doing?"

They finally crossed the street, reaching the parking lot in time to hear the man yelling: "You cunt! You know who else I'm gonna go after if you go through this? Your mother, that bitch!"

"Jesus Christ," Ryan said, on his heels as he stopped short a good sixty feet from the man. "Do you want me to call the police?"

They could see who was inside the car now. A middle-aged woman was gripping the wheel, startling every time the man kicked the door on her side. Shane held out a hand to stop Ryan from getting closer, "What if he runs into traffic?"

The man caught sight of them. He looked frantically around, then back at them. "Get lost, the two of you. This ain't your business," he yelled.

Shane felt Ryan grabbing his arm. Not out of fear, but as if keeping Shane in place. He didn't realize he was about to take a step closer. The man was yelling at the woman again, kicking viciously; the door was dented, and the car rocked with every hit. They were frozen in place, still about sixty feet away, unsure of what to do. There were a couple of people watching from the sidewalk, but no one dared walk any closer.

The woman was crying.

"Fuck this, I'm calling the police," Ryan said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He was still holding Shane by the arm with his free hand, and that was enough to remind Shane not to do anything stupid. Like walk up to the man and try to talk him out of it, for instance. But even if he did, Shane reasoned with himself, watching the man trying to force the car open while Ryan talked on the phone, what was the point of saving that one man? Sure, he didn't want anyone to die and didn't think he held the power to decide whose life was worth or not, but _seriously_? Would it really be that bad if he just let things work how they were supposed to anyway, without his aid?

Ryan finally let go of his arm, turning to not let the man hear what he said to Shane, "They'll be here any minute. I think that's it, man.”

"No, there's something..." Shane trailed off, trying to look around. More people were gathering around them now. "Anyone could've called the police, us being here just for that doesn't make any sense."

A police car arrived a moment later, two cops coming out with hands on their belts. The man didn't see them at first, but the woman did, putting a hand over her chest and saying something unintelligible from inside the car. The man finally turned around, startled.

Shane knew it was coming, so when the man started running in their direction, away from the officers, Shane put himself in the way. He tried to tackle the man to the ground, but he was probably half his girth and the man managed to stay on his feet. They struggled against each other, Shane aware of Ryan's voice calling him, until finally the two cops reached them and put an end to it.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man said, being held back by one of the officers.

"Not you, thankfully," Shane replied. The cop holding him relaxed his grip when Shane didn't try to move. "This piece of shit was trying to get into that lady's car."

"That's my car, you idiot!"

One of the officers was telling them to calm down when they heard it: tires screeching, honking, some surprised yelps. A car had driven past on Veteran Avenue, just behind them, missing the red light by milliseconds, forcing some drivers to hit the brakes. People turned to glance at it but ignored the entire thing for the most part; it was not exactly newsworthy in Los Angeles. But Ryan had gripped Shane's arm again, eyes wide.

"That's where he was going, man. He was going that way, and you stopped him."

Shane opened his mouth to answer, but he was too befuddled to do more than mumble incoherently. One of the officers was taking the man to the viature, while the second stayed with Shane and Ryan, explaining how he'd need their testimony if anyone were to press charges. It was madness, Shane thought. He couldn't quite believe all that had happened in the space of what, five minutes? He felt Ryan's grip on him, steadying him, and wondered if it would be just too weird to hold his hand for a second there, just to remind himself this was real.

As he thought about it, he saw the woman finally opening the car door. He wondered why she hadn't just left, driven off and away from all that chaos, when she stepped out and opened the door to the backseat. A little girl, barely over ten, jumped out, clinging to the woman who lifted her up and hugged her tightly.

"Jesus," Ryan echoed his sentiment, watching the two. "She was there the whole time?"

The officer walked up to her. She nodded a couple of times to whatever he was saying, still crying visibly, and then started saying something just out of earshot for them. Shane felt truthfully sick.

"If that's his daughter—Or granddaughter, fuck..." Ryan took a look around before he saw the look on Shane's face. "You alright?"

"That's fucked up," was all Shane managed to say.

"Yeah. Jesus... But hey," Ryan tugged on Shane's sleeve, making him turn to look at him. There was a small smile there. It was that smile that helped him focus back in reality. “You did it. Super Shane to the rescue.”

“Not sure I feel very heroic right now,” he replied, glancing at the car where the man was being held. He looked at Ryan. “I know it's early but fuck it, I need a beer.”

“Oh God, yes, please. Plus, I’m starving.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been getting much sleep these days so I'm only half awake rn but! here's the update! I think I'll post the next chapter tomorrow, it's a short one.
> 
> (and here's your friendly warning: blood and angst ahead.)

The night was warm enough for them to sit outside. The sky was clear, and Shane kept glancing up, not even aware he was doing it until Ryan used his leg to nudge him from under the table. That got his attention.

"Why are you so obsessed with the moon today?"

"I'm not," Shane laughed, but then looked up again, making a face. "I don't know."

Ryan lowered his voice so the group of friends around them wouldn't hear, "You ok? Something wrong?"

"Lots of things wrong," Shane said, eventually lowering his eyes until he met Ryan's. They had been sitting there, drinking with friends, for a couple of hours now. Both were used to drink on the regular, but Ryan had far more resistance to alcohol than he did, so he didn't look exactly drunk. Just... Exceptionally giddy. His eyes were glinting, and his lips looked moist in the low light. Shane caught himself staring and looked away, clearing his throat. "I guess I'm a little too in my head, yeah. But you know, I'm having to question a lot."

"Like what?"

Their eyes met again, and Shane could swear that smirk meant something else; he didn't know what Ryan meant, but he sure as hell hoped it wasn't _that_. He wasn't ready to open that door yet. He wasn't prepared for the awkwardness and the pitiful smiles. Not yet.

"Like if I'm capable of seeing the future and shit, as ridiculous as it sounds," he said. Ryan let out a short laugh, lowering his head. "Or if I'm somehow timetraveling in my sleep? That's... That's not a thing, for fuck's sake."

"No, it's not," Ryan said, drinking some of his root beer. "But it's weird, I'll give you that. There must be a reason why it's happening to you."

"Eh, I don't know about that," Shane shook his head, then held Ryan's gaze. "I'm not losing it, am I?"

His tone carried some of the worry that he felt, because Ryan was quick to answer, "Don't go there, man. Seriously, I've walked that road and it's not fun. If you start questioning your own mind now, who's to say when you'll actually lose it? Trust me. I'd say if this looked like a psychotic break or something, but it doesn't. You just... I know you're gonna hate me for saying this, but you gotta believe it, Shane. Believe that something, no matter how fucked up it is, is happening. You're living it, dude. You know this better than I do."

Shane nodded, giving him a thankful smile. "You know me too well."

"Of course I do," Ryan said, nudging him with an elbow and laughing. "That's 'cause I love you."

Shane didn't answer, just avoided his eyes and joined the conversation going around the table.

 

∞

 

Two weeks later, Shane still couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened at the intersection. After thinking about it from every possible angle, he decided it simply didn’t make any sense. It was too chaotic, too nonsensical for it to be real. Yet it had been very much real, and no matter how many times he had asked Ryan if he remembered it, the answer was always the same: yes, it happened. Yes, it was real. No, you’re not insane. Not yet.

But Ryan, as per usual, didn’t think it was all that nonsensical. Sure, chatting with dead bodies is not usually part of your early afternoon routine, but he considered it a gift. An ability, he said once, to Shane’s dismay. If anything, Shane thought, that was a curse. Having someone’s life in your hands is horrifying, he argued. Ryan ignored him and mantained that it must be for a reason. They just didn't know what reason yet.

So life went on, and their days went on as if nothing different had happened. They were busier than ever, both taking on individual projects alongside the current 4 iterations of Unsolved, but it was good. Fun, and comfortable. Shane started to relax, thinking it - whatever _it_ was - may as well be over. He hoped it was, for the sake his own sanity.

 

∞

 

_Thump._  Shane opened his eyes and saw TJ mouthing a “ _I’m sorry_ ” at him. The room was still dark, and humid, and old, and Shane wished Ryan could just get over with it already. They were waiting for him to come back; he was walking the empty halls by himself, and as they knew all too well, starting at any creaks under his feet.

In other words, Shane was starting to get bored. He was pretty sure he had been dozing off when TJ dropped his bag and startled him awake. He glanced at his watch. Almost five minutes since Ryan had gone in.  _God_ , Shane really craved some pizza right now. He was about to call out to check on Ryan and see if he was done when he noticed how quiet it was. He couldn’t hear Ryan anymore, and wondered just how far the man had decided to go this time around. “Why is he taking so long? Has he made any friends this time around?” He joked to the cameras, and to TJ.

Another minute. Shane was getting restless. He was about to check his phone when he heard it.

A scream.

“ _Help-- Shane!_ ”

He was up in a second, the camera he had been holding clattering to the floor. The only reason he didn’t react immediately after that was the very vague idea that this might be just Ryan playing around, but his brain caught up fast. That wasn’t a playful scream. It sounded real. Too real.

Shane was running into the myriad of hallways before TJ could even move. The asylum was huge, and there were six floors including the one they were on, but Shane didn’t think Ryan had gone up or down. He was there somewhere.

“ _Guys, please,_ ” he heard Ryan’s voice. Strained. Pained. Shane called out, running faster. “ _I’m here..._ ”

His voice died out and Shane felt worry clouding his mind. He went blindly in the direction Ryan was calling, TJ following him close behind, and they finally found the right room, following the sound of Ryan’s labored breath.

“Shit, Ryan!”

Ryan was on the floor, clutching the side of his stomach, completely in the dark. His flashlight and cameras were nowhere to be seen, but Shane didn’t realize that at first because what caught his attention was the blood running through Ryan’s fingers. It was slowly turning into a small pool around him. Shane dropped to his knees beside him, trying to help him sit up and stopping when Ryan cried out in pain.

“Ryan, God, what happened, what— Fuck, it’s alright, buddy, we’re here, it’s alright…”

Ryan clung to him, and the look in his eyes broke something inside Shane. He was _terrified_. His eyes were wide and teary, and his lips were trembling, and he tried to bring Shane closer, pulling him in. Shane held him the best he could without moving him too much. He looked back at TJ, standing there, shaky hands holding his phone to his ear.

“Do something!” He yelled, his voice deeper and louder than usual. “Get help, call— Call the crew inside, we need to get him… Get him to a hospital. Jesus, Ryan…”

“I’m calling an ambulance,” TJ said, pacing back and forth, looking pale as a ghost. His flashlight was the only one still holding, as Shane had dropped his the moment he saw Ryan.

He looked back at him. Ryan was openly crying now, gulping for air, clutching his stomach. Shane put his hand over Ryan’s and pressed, biting his tongue when Ryan cried, “ _Fuck, fuck, fuck--_ "

“It’s alright, you’re alright, baby,” Shane said. “Help’s on the way, just hang in there. What— What happened, how--?”

“A guy. There was a guy in here, he…” Ryan choked, still clutching the front of Shane’s shirt, keeping him close. “He took the camera, I tried to fight him—“

“Jesus, Ryan…”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said in between sobs. Shane was trying to hold back tears, but that was too much, he couldn’t— “I’m sorry, that was s… So dumb, Shane, I don’t want— I don’t want to di…”

“Shut up. You’re gonna be alright. I promise,” he turned to ask TJ to hurry, but he was gone. He turned back to Ryan. “I promise you, baby, you’ll be fine…”

Ryan let out a shaky, weak laugh, “The only time I’ll let you… call me baby.”

An incredulous laugh bubbled out Shane’s mouth, but the pain in his chest was so suffocating he couldn’t manage more than that. He didn’t know how to pray, and he didn’t remember the last time he prayed about anything at all, but in this moment he kept wishing that it was him instead of Ryan, that he was the one feeling that pain, losing that much blood, because it couldn’t be Ryan, it just couldn’t. It was wrong, a mistake the universe couldn’t have made because it was too cruel, too awful. Ryan was shaking in his arms, cold to the touch, teeth chattering. Shane held him closer, touching his face, unintentionally smearing blood across his cheek as he started to pepper his face with butterfly kisses, wishing all those tears away.

“Please, stay with me, I’m begging you,” he prayed, again and again, Ryan gradually going limp in his arms. “Ryan, baby, please, don’t… Don’t do this to me, please…”

Ryan tried smiling through the tears, but pain shot up his body and he convulsed in Shane’s arms. By the time he had stopped thrashing, his eyes were closed.

Shane panicked. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore, but he was trying to wake Ryan up, calling his name over and over again. There was no response. He picked him up and walked out of the room, still calling him, still trying to get him to open his eyes. He was halfway down the hall when he ran into people from their crew. They were talking too fast, and Shane couldn’t focus because all he could see was Ryan’s face in his arms, all he could hear was his own desperate sobs, and the world seemed to be out of its axis because he fell to his knees, still holding Ryan close to him.

He was crying, and there was someone touching his shoulder, another one trying to pry Ryan away from his hands, but he couldn’t let go. He closed his eyes, praying to all gods, all entities that could hear him, that this couldn’t be happening. It was a mistake, _please, someone_ —

He felt a cold hand against his face, and his eyes shot open. Ryan was cupping his face, teary eyes open and staring at him. His lips formed the words but instead of hearing it, Shane felt Ryan’s voice piercing him inside, echoing inside his head.

“ _Help me_ ,” he said.

 

∞

 

_Thump_ . Shane opened his eyes and saw TJ mouthing “ _I’m sorry_ ” at him. He stood up, blood running cold.

“RYAN!” He called out, walking away from the foyer they had been huddled in.

TJ tried to stop him, saying, “Wait, Shane, hold up—“ but Shane didn’t wait for him.

He was running before he knew it, going straight to the room he had just been in. His mind was racing, thoughts of _please no, no, no_ mixed with the sheer terror of what he had just seen. Shane felt like throwing up, but he kept going until he turned into the right door.

“Ryan--” he called, stopping cold in the doorway.

“Stay there,” said the man holding Ryan in place. They were standing up, and Ryan seemed fine, which sent a quick wave of relief over Shane. That was shortlived, because the man had a knife against Ryan’s neck, holding him from behind.

It looked like the man hadn’t had a proper shower in months. He was dirty, ashy blond hair sticking out, his bloodshot eyes wide, insane, staring at Shane in the doorway.

Shane tried to take a step closer, but the man gripped the knife harder, making Ryan flinch against the blade, “Shane, don’t.”

He stopped. “Let him go, man. Don’t—Don’t hurt him, we’ll leave, we won’t do anything to you.”

The man laughed, a high-pitched whine. “‘Course you won’t. Stay back.”

Shane didn’t move. He tried to hear for TJ, but he didn’t know where he was. He had followed Shane down the hallway, but Shane lost track of him when he entered the room. He was trying to think of a way out, watching with horror as Ryan tried to stay as still as possible, wide-eyed, clenching his jaw. The man shifted on his feet and Ryan closed his eyes; he must’ve felt the blade almost cutting through his skin.

“Gimme that,” the man said to Shane, and Shane realized he meant the camera around his torso.

He started to take it off, right away, “You want this? I have my phone on me, and my wallet... Will you let us go? Will you let him go if I give you that?”

He took the camera off, and pulled his phone and wallet out of his pockets. Offering it with an open hand, he met Ryan’s gaze. He nodded shortly, trying to reassure him that it would be alright, even though he felt like his heart was about to jump out of his throat.

“There,” he insisted, trying to give the man what he had on his hands. “Please, let him go. Please.”

The man eyed the objects with interest, hesitating. He sniffed and pushed Ryan forward, “Get that. Give it to me.”

Ryan did as he was told, getting Shane’s things and handing it over to the man. In a second he had snatched it from Ryan’s hands and taken off running, crawling out the window like he had been doing that all his life. Soon he was out of sight.

Shane felt his legs shaking. Ryan turned to him, still wide-eyed, and reached out in time to catch Shane before his legs gave up. “Hey, hey, it’s ok, big guy.”

He couldn’t believe it. Shane could feel Ryan’s arm around him, helping him up, and his hand on his arm. Ryan was there. He was alive, warm to the touch; his face wasn’t wet with tears. There was no blood. Shane let out a shaky breath and put his arms around Ryan, hugging him.

“Hey, man, it’s ok, I’m alright…” Ryan said, confused.

“You are,” Shane pulled back to grab Ryan’s face between his hands, so relieved, so desperately relieved. “Thank God, you are, I— Never do that to me again, baby, ever...”

Ryan was alarmed. He tried to read Shane’s face, “What’s wrong?”

Shane tried to find the right words, but none seemed right. Nothing could explain the horror he felt, craddling Ryan in his arms, feeling the life drain out of him. He had never been more scared in his life. And having Ryan so close to him, alive, well, watching him, led Shane to lean down and kiss him. He hadn’t decided to do so, it just happened. He felt Ryan’s lips against his, warm, soft, and his chest seemed to finally get the air it craved. They stayed like that for a couple of seconds before Shane pulled back, caressing Ryan’s cheek with his thumb.

“I thought I had lost you. I thought— You were gone, Ryan, shit. I thought—“

Beautiful, brilliant Ryan understood right away. His mouth fell open, “I died?”

Shane couldn’t bring himself to reply, so he nodded.

“Holyshit,” Ryan said. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened but I’m really sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Shane said, embracing him again, feeling Ryan’s arms around him. TJ walked in at that point and they parted, reluctantly.

“I called the police,” TJ said, eyeing them curiously but not saying anything. “Mark saw the way he ran off, they’re all waiting outside.”

“We should go. Leave this place, right fucking now,” Ryan said.

TJ nodded in agreement, leaving the way he came. As they stepped out of the room, Ryan took Shane’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said.

Shane didn’t know what to say. He just smiled, drinking in the way Ryan’s face lit up with a smile, still shaken, but very much alive. They walked out of the building hand in hand, happy to find a police car arriving just in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps. I almost split this chapter in two but I thought it would be too much of a dick move? lol


	5. Chapter 5

Shane was mostly silent during the car ride to the station, and then during the ride back to the hotel. The entire thing - which included filing a report, notifying the owners of the building they had been filming in, calling a million different places to either cancel or request something - took up most of the night, and by the time they drove back to the hotel, they were all exhausted. Ryan led Shane back to their floor, reassuring the crew for the umpteenth time that night that he was alright, thanks for the support, guys, and no, there’s no need to call anyone back home, they could deal with that later. 

All of that, however, seemed so distant to Shane. He could hear them talking next to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to absorb any part of the conversation. He felt numb. It felt like all of his energy and strength were gone, and there was nothing left in him. So when he sat down on his bed, elbows on his tighs, head hanging low, he almost didn’t realize he was doing it. 

But Ryan did. He walked out of the bathroom and approached Shane. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he asked, “How are you feeling?” 

Shane startled. He shouldn’t have, because Ryan hadn’t been silent, and he was in his direct line of sight. But Shane didn’t feel that way. He didn’t feel like he was there at all. Ryan’s hand on him was such an abrupt call back to the present that he gasped. Something was set loose inside of him. He used a hand to cover his eyes, unable to stop the tears that sprang out of nowhere. 

“Hey, big guy,” Ryan called gently, crouching in front of him. He was touching Shane’s knee now, which only caused Shane to sob harder. It didn’t make any sense, and he had no idea why he was crying so hard, but he was. He let it engulf him, let his shoulders shake with the weakness he felt inside, not worried about what Ryan might think. He had worried enough that night. So much, his heart was still tight, and heavy. 

“Shane...” Ryan tried again, this time sitting up next to him on the bed. He put his arms around Shane, bringing him in to hold him. 

Shane allowed him, crying harder than he had ever cried in his life. His face was hidden against Ryan’s chest and he couldn’t believe Ryan was there, so close, so  _ real _ . The worst part, his muddled train of thought offered, was that he couldn’t forget it. He couldn’t just snap his mind shut, force it to forget what had happened, because it was ripping his heart apart, searing pain that seemed almost too real cutting his chest open from inside out. 

It took him a few minutes to stop crying. He realized Ryan was cradling him, trying to soothe him, telling him it was ok, they were ok, he was ok. He felt silly for breaking down like that, but still, he couldn’t find the energy to care. That was Ryan. He wasn’t scared of showing anything to him, not even his most fragile, broken side. All he could do was give in to sheer exhaustion; the stress and anxiety he had felt that night had overpowered him, and he understood then that there was no point in trying to fight against it.

Shane pulled back so he could wipe his tears away, but Ryan beat him to it. His fingers brushed ever so gently against his face, wiping any trace of tears, so lovingly Shane closed his eyes and let out a sigh. 

“It’s alright. It’s good to let it out now,” Ryan said. He kissed Shane on each of his eyelids. “But we’re fine. Don’t think of anything else. We’re alright. Ok?” 

“You know me too well, it’s borderline creepy,” said Shane, trying his best to sound normal, but his voice was uneven, cracking at the last word. It was enough to make Ryan chuckle. “I’m ok now, I think.” 

He opened his eyes. Ryan was still cupping his face, so close to him he could see the dried up tears on his cheeks. He had cried, too. A couple of tears, probably when he had been holding him. That stung, and Shane had to swallow the urge to cry again. “I’m sorry, that must’ve freaked you out.” 

“A bit, yeah. You never cry like that.” 

“No,” Shane laughed shortly. “No, I don’t. That was weird.” 

Ryan just stared at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, a tight smile on his face. He waited until Shane had met his eyes to press his lips against Shane’s. It was a gentle touch, barely even any pressure, but it helped Shane finally calm down another notch. It was real. Ryan was real. They were fine. 

“Want me to get something to eat?” Ryan asked. Shane shook his head, still feeling somewhat queasy. “Alright, how about something to drink, then?” 

“Water’s fine. I think I almost dehydrated myself just now.” 

Ryan laughed and stood up, coming back with a bottle of water for him. Shane drank half of it in one go, once again feeling exhaustion on each and every one of his muscles. They stayed there, sitting in silence side by side, for a while. 

“Ryan?” 

“Mhm?” 

“I love you.” 

Ryan smiled, one of his real, beautiful smiles. He ran his fingers through Shane’s hair, a touch he never knew until that point how much he craved. “I love you too, Shane. But maybe we can talk about this later? We should get some sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Shane agreed immediately. He had never felt so tired. “Yeah, you're right, I think we should.” 

“Come on, then.”

Stepping out of bed and helping Shane do the same, Ryan pulled back the covers on Shane’s bed, patting his pillows. He was about to pull back the covers on his own bed when Shane touched his wrist, saying, “Can I sleep with you? Not— You know what I mean.” 

Ryan just chuckled, “Sure.” 

They climbed onto Shane’s bed, both still wearing the clothes they had been filming in. Ryan lied back and pulled Shane in, wrapping his arms around his large frame. Shane didn’t hold back; he was too tired for that. He just rested his head against Ryan’s chest, closing his eyes and breathing in the faint cologne that still clung to his shirt. 

He was asleep in a matter of seconds, listening to Ryan’s heartbeat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super short chapter, but an important one. the last one is coming up soon. again, thank you for the feedback folks, it means /a lot/ to me. seriously ;; <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me long enough but! here it is! kinda short because I still don't know how chapters work, apparently. enjoy!

"You know, the thing about working together," Shane announced as he got into the car, giving Ryan a quick kiss on the cheek and putting his seatbelt on, "is that I know for a fact you're stressed over a dozen different things right now."

Ryan laughed, incredulous. "Hi, Shane, yeah, I'm great, thanks for asking! How was your appointment?"

"And it's stupid to stop everything to pick me up. It's barely even fifteen minutes to the office from here, and I can always call an Uber."

They were both laughing at that point, "Oh, that's good to hear, yeah. Glad you liked her, she was really well recommended."

Finally, Shane stopped to look at Ryan. They were still parked on the block where the office of his new therapist was located, but they didn't feel in a hurry to go back to their desks just yet. Three weeks had passed since that day at filming, and things seemed to be slowly getting back to normal. For real this time. Causa Mortis had wrapped filming, and the episodes were in the process of editing. Which meant no more morgue for a while – and maybe forever. (Or until a very long time, Shane conceded - preferably a lifetime.) They had decided to change locations for the time being, but didn’t make any arrangements to come back to the morgue later on. Shane suspected Ryan would be against it, and he was more than glad to go with it.  

"I appreciate the sentiment, though. The fact that you care enough to drive your precious baby all the way here," he tapped the dashboard.

"I only have one precious baby, and that's you," Ryan said, with a shit-eating grin. 

Shane grimaced. "Are we really there already? Cute, vomit-inducing pet names?"

"You're the one who calls me baby all the time!"

"That's neither here nor there..."

"It's _totally_ here, oh my God, Shane, what are you talking about."

Shane laughed, just happy to see Ryan's exasperated smile. The peace he got from that was yet to be challenged by anything else in the world. It probably showed on his face, because Ryan rolled his eyes and turned the ignition.

"See, you're the one making the stupid faces."

"What stupid faces?"

"This," Ryan gestured towards his face but avoided his eyes, watching the street as he drove out. "You look like an idiot."

"I am one," Shane admitted, shrugging. "And I can't help if looking at this," he gestured towards Ryan face, making him laugh and bat away his hand, "makes me happy. I'm an idiot in love, and that's fine by me."

"That's fine by you?"

"Sure. Dr Andras agrees. She wants to meet you someday, by the way."

Ryan glanced at him, surprised. "Me? What, like couple's therapy?"

"No, what are we, fifty and married? No, it's just... You know, I talk about you a lot. She thinks it might be a good idea."

"Ok," Ryan readily accepted, but then he frowned. "Wait."

"What?"

"It's just. You're gonna think it's weird--"

"Don't I always."

"--but have you talked to the coroner since the last time we filmed for Unsolved? You know, Dr Davies, from the morgue."

"Is the part that I find weird supposed to be how the fuck you connected the two topics?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, yeah, that's weird." Shane thought for a second. "No, I don't think I talked to him after we left the morgue that day. We had the paperwork done, I don't think even Mark got in touch with him since then. Why?"

Ryan worried his lips, not answering at first. He was driving with his eyes on traffic, but Shane still waited for some kind of response that was not silence and lip biting. Finally, after what felt like a good minute, Ryan said, quickly, as he always did when he was thinking fast: "Don't you think it's weird that he got you to see those bodies that just happened to come back to life to talk to you? I don't know, I'm not saying—Fuck, maybe that's what I'm saying, but maybe he knows something. Maybe he knew what he was doing. I told you it must be for a reason, what if he knew what the reason was?"

Shane thought it through. He had tried to come up with a good explanation for what had happened to him not once, not twice, but three times - one of them quite hard to swallow. He had started seeing a therapist, not sure he could forget about that awful night on his own. He had changed meds with his psychiatrist, since he was having trouble sleeping even with the sleeping pills he already had prescribed for himself. It hadn't been the easiest time of his life, but it hadn't been the hardest, either. Ryan had been by his side, and this time closer than ever. They had grown used to their new relationship so quickly, so seamlessly that they somehow forgot to formally announce it at work – until one day, barely twenty-four hours after they had returned from their short leave, they had jokingly kissed on the lips and caused a commotion in the Buzzfeed office. All of which meant it wasn't a big deal for Ryan to leave for a couple of hours when Shane went to his (greatly encouraged by HR) appointments. Most of their colleagues were almost annoyingly happy for them, with Jen, Zach, and Sara being the most enthusiastic about it.

But then again, Shane reminded himself, not everything had gone back to normal. He still had no explanation for those three occurrences, and he worried that it might happen again, someday. Not that he was visiting any autopsy rooms any time soon. But still.

He took so long to answer that Ryan added, "You know, I did try to send him an e-mail last week, but it failed to send. Like the account's been deactivated, or something like that. It's weird, right?"

"Uhm--"

"It _is_ weird!" Ryan cut him off. "Don't give me your bullshit about it being just a coincidence. We have his number, we should try calling him. Do you have it on you?"

Shane checked his phone, and said he did. More to appease Ryan than anything, he called the morgue. It rang twice. " _Coroner's Office._ "

"Hi, can I speak to Dr Davies, please? Coroner Anton Davies."

" _Dr Davies doesn't work here anymore, unfortunately._ "

That made Shane hesitate. Ryan muttered _oh shit_ with the silence that hung in the car. When Shane found his voice again, he asked, "What happened, exactly?"

" _Oh, he asked to be transferred to New York. Sorry, who am I speaking with?_ "

He identified himself, and thanked for the woman's attention, but was disappointed to hear she only had his previous e-mail address, the same one Shane and Ryan had. "Thank you once again," he said before hanging up. "This is weird."

"What?"

"He transferred to New York. Asked for it. She said it couldn't have been more than a couple of weeks."

Ryan glanced at him, wide-eyed. "Dude. This is weird as fuck."

"It is. But it _could_ still be a coincidence."

" _How can you even say that?_ "

They stopped at a red light, and Ryan turned to him, "What if. Ok, this is too dumb even for me, but what if. What if he knew that was going to happen to me, back at the asylum… and prepared you for it?"

Shane frowned. "Who is he, some kind of God? How could he possibly know?"

"Don't ask me, you were the one seeing the future!"

"True," Shane said. The light turned green and Ryan kept his eyes on the road, but he was still worrying his bottom lip. "I don't think I'll ever understand what happened, to be quite honest."

He caught Ryan's smirk with the corner of his eyes. Before he could say anything to stop what he knew was coming, Ryan said, in his most exaggerated theory voice: "It seems that this mystery will remain... Unsolved."

Shane groaned loudly, "I hate that I love you too much to hate you."

Ryan broke into laughter, and Shane felt his lips curving into a smile. Maybe it was a gift all along. Maybe they had been granted a second chance. He still found it hard to believe the coroner had anything to do with it, but it's not like he had a plausible explanation for all that had happened, either. He was just glad to be there, nodding along with a smirk as Ryan's theories grew increasingly preposterous. 

Yeah, everything would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to you folks who have been here from day one, and those who came along the way, and those that are reading this all in one go: I'm well aware this is a weird au but I just loved it too much not to give a try. it means a lot to me that there were people reading it and leaving kudos and just being amazing in general, so thanks. <3


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